


Heights

by OrchardErmine



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, It's just Travis pining over Sal throughout the game, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25320652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrchardErmine/pseuds/OrchardErmine
Summary: Travis Phelps had always been afraid of heights. Takes place during the main game; contains spoilers for chapter 1-5 of Sallyface, mentions of abuse and major character deaths.
Relationships: Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	1. Fun-sized Brat

Travis Phelps had been afraid of heights as long as he'd been alive.

He had vivid memories of being younger. His father lifting him onto the bed of their old, large pickup truck. For two seconds he'd be fine--before looking down and realizing how high off the ground he was.

The tears started and so did the eye rolling and huffing.

"It's only a few feet, cut it out, kid!"

This, of course, had no effect and Travis bawled his little eyes out until he was finally picked up and set down safely in the dirt or grass.

As he'd grown, Travis realized that no other parents he knew called their son 'kid'. It wasn't a surprise; his family and especially his father had always been a little weird. 

Admittedly, as much as it was his normal, Travis was fairly sure that most churches didn't have ominous candlelit basements and lackeys in cloaks. Travis was also fairly certain that most parents, even devoted preachers like his own, didn't have ceremonial dog masks conveniently stored next to a larger-than-life shotgun.

Travis was one hundred percent certain that children who couldn't sleep didn't accidentally overhead their parents talking about people going mysteriously missing and children needing to be taken out.

Lots of children.

Between the general off-ness of the home and Dad leaving every few weeks to go who knows where for 'church business', it was inevitable that Travis started having a few issues.

As the anger of adolescence inside him grew, so did the bruises on his body. 

A slip up; an eye roll, a 'whatever', a forgotten chore, each ended up a story on his skin. A story of spite. 

And an eye that just wouldn't heal no matter how many times he iced it.

Travis didn't know that he would wake up one day, begrudgingly walk to school and flop into his desk and everything would suddenly change. 

Coming early was a good way to at least lessen the amount of blows he was getting, and counting heads as people came in was a good way to pass the morning minutes. Philip, Stephanie, Chelsea, Marcus...Larry Johnson. Larry always incited a special kind of rage, there was something about that long hair and those dumb sad dog eyes that ticked him off. 

Today was special though, because there was someone WITH Larry, and just the sight of this new kid turned his anger up to a ten.

Blue hair and a weird pink mask. Holes in his jeans. No books in his hand, must be someone new- or perhaps careless, as Larry never brought his books either.

Travis swore he saw red. From the second his mind processed the appearance of this new fun-sized brat, Travis knew he hated Sally Face. It was the only answer for the feeling of rocks in his stomach.


	2. Be Not Afraid

Moonlight filtered through the window, falling just before Travis onto his plain comforter in the otherwise dark room. 

He was kneeled down on the rough, old carpet, eyes shut tight and hands intertwined together.

Travis' jaw was clenched together, but what escaped was barely a prayer, through gritted teeth.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son,"

His fingers hurt from being clasped so tightly.

"That whoever believes in Him shall not perish,"

The pain in his mouth was getting worse with each word.

"But through Him have everlasting life."

Travis was drowning it out.

Drowning out the unspeakable things that'd gone through his mind over the course of the day. Drowning out his sins.

Travis was drowning out the way he'd thought about sitting beside Sal, laughing with him over bologna sandwiches. Drowning out the thought he'd have of resting his hand on Sal's jaw. Drowning out the thoughts he'd had of pushing that stupid mask off and kissing Sal in a hallway closet between classes.

He didn't even know what to expect under there. It was pretty known around school that it was a prosthetic but whatever was under it was still a mystery. In Travis's daydreams, he never imagined Sal's face, as though a sacred blessing, not something to be viewed by his unworthy eyes, but beautiful. 

Sal was like an Angel. 

Be not afraid, Zechariah, for your prayers have been heard. 

"For God so loved the world,"

If he kept talking he'd just forget.

"That he gave his only begotten Son,"

If he just kept talking, it'd go away.

"That whoever believes in Him..."


	3. Notebook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of child abuse.

It'd been months since the first time Travis started having these weird thoughts about Sal. They were burrowed into his skull, seeping into everything else he tried to focus on.

Every time he pictured holding Sal's hand it made his anger grow.

It wasn't that Travis wasn't already a problem child; Between being vehemently Christian and an angry teen, violence came to him like a magnet. Seeing Sal in the hallways only clouded his mind further. It inevitably led to a variety of colorful and not very friendly slurs being thrown towards Sal and whoever happened to be in his rag-tag friend circle at the time, and yet...

It was almost a nightly routine now.

Travis would get home and argue with his father about what was on today's agenda. Travis would decide against something stupid he never could predict, and it'd bubble up into a full cat fight between the two of them. Usually Travis would end up with some new bruises and then the warning would come.

"You're next in line, kid. Act like it!"

After that he'd get sent to his room to pray in the dark (as usual.) Just when Kenneth started settling in, Travis would pull himself to his feet and ever so softly sneak over to the messy wooden desk across from his bed.

He'd picked a special notebook just for this; For sitting there, trying to find the words to express himself without sounding like more of an idiot than he already felt.

'This is a sin but I like you'? No.

'I wish we could run away together and move into a little secret cabin in a forest'? Absolutely not.

'You're amazing'? Maybe not on it's own, but it was progress!

There was a full wastebasket of discarded letters by Travis' desk, a thousand different words that were never good enough.

No one could know. Not until Sal knew, and Sal deserved perfection. He was an angel.

As he reached the last page, Travis finally decided he'd had enough wasted paper. 

It was enough fantasizing about Sal at every turn, but torturing himself with these letters was a special kind of Hell. Possibly worse than actual Hell. 

It wasn't quite finished, but at this point, it was something. It had to be something. He felt like his heart was going to burst at the seams if he kept this up.

Travis decided he needed to give in.


	4. Unworthy

The half-finished letter was burning a hole in Travis's backpack, tucked away in the front pouch.

His mind was clouded with thoughts, overpowering everything--even his father's daily lecture about responsibility and his place in the ministry. Even when he tried to suppress it, everything was spreading through his veins like poison. 

What if Sal called him a freak?

Why would Sal, a freak, call him a freak anyway?

Would Sal just laugh at him? Share it with his friends? With the entire school?

If Dad found out, Travis would be dead where he stood.

Leviticus 20:13.

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination.

Travis always scoffed at it, in the back of his mind. It wasn't like he wanted to anything like THAT with Sal, that was gross, right? He wasn't some kind of homo. 

And yet, every time Travis closed his eyes, he saw Sal. 

He pictured Sal's hands intertwined with his. He'd rest his head on Sal's chest and listen to the beating of his heart. He'd breath in the scent of Sal's body, always a little musty from the old age of the Addison Apartments, but perfect.

And in Travis' dreams, Sal always seemed to glow. The heavenly light shined down on him like a halo, and sometimes Sal was missing the , it somehow managed to entire blind out Sal's face. 

As much as he'd pretend he didn't want to see Sal's ugly, disfigured face, Travis knew it was more complex than that. 

In the eyes of God, all humans are sinners and unworthy of God's love. 

Travis was starting to believe that because he was a sinner, he was unworthy of Sal's love, too.


	5. Bathroom

This wasn't how it was meant to go!

Travis was furious with himself, staring down at his fists. Everything looked blurry, and it took him far too long to realize it was because of the tears dripping down his cheeks. Travis was counting his blessings that no one else was in the restroom. 

He hadn't approached Sal with the intention of punching him! 

The halls had been entirely empty. It was the perfect time. The letter in his pocket. 

And when he finally was trying to get up the courage to, Ashley was there, and it was the smallest pebble on the track that sent the train flying.

It was like he wasn't even in his body, watching himself fuck up with every word. Watching the insults come out like daggers, shredding apart every chance he had to make amends. Poking holes in any sense of good faith Sal could've possibly seen in him.

Or so he thought, until he heard the footsteps.

Suddenly there was a voice. Soft, or maybe just muffled by the mask covering it. Echoing through the empty restroom like a choir. And suddenly, without any prayers or begging for mercy, Sal was saying that Travis was a good person, that they didn't have to be enemies. He was saying that Travis was just angry, and offering him support, and encouraging him to be his own person.

Sal was an angel. 

Travis knew it. Travis knew that under that old sweater there had to be wings, a million eyes under that mask, a halo above those pigtails. He knew that the only reason he'd been allowed to meet Sal was that he was being blessed, even though he hadn't done anything near good enough to deserve it.

As soon as Travis heard the door close behind Sal, Travis felt everything pour out like a waterfall, the dam shattered open by the gesture of kindness.

Sal had always been nice to him, even when Travis was picking fights with everyone in sight. Even when Travis was stuck in front of the principal's office for the third time that week. Even when he was sitting alone at lunch, surrounded by more stupid ministry fliers that his father insisted he give out, not that anyone particularly wanted them.

Even when Travis hadn't been able to get even an ounce of kindness out of his mouth, staring down those blue eyes.

He wasn't sure how many people had noticed, but Travis had seen it. Travis had noticed how whenever Sal looked around, one eye didn't quite follow. Travis had noticed how glassy; It made sense, it had to be glass. Travis couldn't help but wonder, especially now, what had happened to Sal to take his eye away, to cover up his beautiful face, to make him so kind.

Sally Face. Sal never seemed to mind that name, but Travis couldn't imagine it was the most pleasant name to be called.

Sal. Just Sal. It was a commitment Travis decided as he bawled his eyes out in the restroom, note discard, nose running. No more Sally Face. Just Sal.


	6. Graduation

The sun was shining down from directly above, coating everyone at the ceremony in a thick layer of heat.

Nockfell High School must have been run by monster to decide that graduation was going to be in the morning. With the formalities over with, most people had already abandoned their seats, leaving Travis an eyesore alone in his row. Looking around, he could see his peers fanning themselves to keep their makeup on for the last goodbye photos, bulky Polaroid cameras hanging around wrists, shoulders, and waists. 

He was alone, not for lack of trying but for lack of finding a place for his piece of the puzzle.

And then Travis spotted them, as obvious as the sun beating down on the field. Ashley desperately dabbing at her eyes to control the melting of her eyeliner, Todd and Neil holding hands but standing at least two feet apart to keep from overheating, Maple sneaking Chug yet another half-melted congratulatory snack, all in the ugly polyester robes they'd been forced to don, hats all but abandoned in a small pile.

Larry was standing tall, up on his tiptoes, and laughing-- a real, genuine laugh, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut to keep from being blinded by the light. In his hand were two sets of their diplomas, dangling just high enough to be out of reach.

In front of him was Sal, hair pulled back into a high ponytail for the occasion, the collar of a frilled blouse barely poking out of the front of his robe. He was hopping in place as he tried to grab his diploma back. Travis couldn't imagine how unpleasant laughing through that mask in the overwhelming heat was. 

He couldn't stop himself from imagining taking that mask off. He imagined just walking up and unbuckling the clasps and pressing their lips together before Sal had any time to think about it. Wrapping his arms around Sal's waist. Telling him, out loud, "I love you, Sally Face."

Travis paused to remind himself of his promise. No Sally Face. Just Sal.

His head was so in the clouds he didn't notice when the group had spotted him, and Sal had approached, now standing directly in front of his seat.

"Hey, Travis--"

"What?" Travis was more startled than angry, but his nature was still there. He swallowed nervously, biting the inside of his cheek. "Sorry. What is it?"

"Do you want to come hang out with us?"

Sal always did this. Any time he thought Travis might be struggling, it was the first thing out of his mouth. An offer of companionship.

Travis prided himself on having never once taken him up on it, on his strength to not need help, and yet...

He cleared his throat some, glancing around as well as he could. It'd looked bad for years, but recently his eye had gotten worse, with blurry vision at best. He'd seen his father briefly during the ceremony, but at this point that area of the bleachers was entirely empty. So much for being there for his son's achievements.

"... Do you think they'll be okay with it?" Travis tilted his head in the direction of the rest of Sal's little gang.

"Doesn't matter. Come on."

Before Travis could process it through his mind, Sal had grabbed Travis' wrist with a gentle hand and pulled him along. Travis hadn't even realize he'd stood, let alone followed.

Once it hit him that he was so close, he felt like a lamb lead to slaughter, waiting for Larry to decide Travis didn't belong and knock his lights out. He was sure Ashley packed a punch too, and maybe even Maple though she seemed much more pacifist, but Larry was the tallest and by far the greasiest out of them.

But they didn't. If anything, they were as surprised as Travis was that he was there and not screaming insults or threats at them. 

Sal immediately resumed his conversation, picking up where he'd left off as though nothing had happened.

"Anyway, so if you think about it, the dinosaur toys really are made of dinosaurs because of the way we produce plastics, and..."

It was like a taste of being normal. Travis fell into the conversation, anger tabled on every side if only for Sal's sake. 

Laughter, and actual happiness, and a moment of relaxation despite the near-hundred degree weather. Even once they moved to split ways, Sal offered to give Travis a ride home.

Travis had been walking for years. Between a lack of friends and a father who spent constant hours working at the ministry, there wasn't really anyone to actually teach him. Besides, Nockfell was such a small city, plenty of people walked, so it didn't actually matter.

But it the middle of the day still. And the sun was right overhead. And the AC of the small, beaten up sedan Sal used to get around was so much more comfortable. 

The rest of the circle had piled into Chug's hand-me-down van to go get food. Sal opted out, reminding them he didn't want to sit in a dining room getting oil on the inside of his mask just to eat a few fries, which they had laughed about in good spirits as Sal trailed off to his car, Travis trailing a few feet behind.

As soon as he settled and buckled in, Travis gave a huff.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I know." Sal shrugged, taking his hair down and shaking out the wild layers. "I wouldn't wish this heat on anyone though. Besides, I was going to go home anyway."

Travis tensed for a moment in defense, the feeling like he was being pitied building in his stomach.

And then stopping all at once when he realized it wasn't pity.

Sal was showing him mercy.

"....Thanks." He decided on, as Sal pulled the stubborn gear shift into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. 

Driving made Travis acutely aware of Sal's eye. He could just barely see it- the way Sal leaned extra far forward when checking his blind spot, or tilted closer to check the mirror.

Every time Sal almost bumped his shoulder Travis held his breath, praying that it'd last just a moment longer. 

Travis couldn't even open his mouth, for fear that the wrong words would come out. He didn't even question how Sal knew where he lived, and definitely didn't try to give directions.

Before Travis knew it, Sal had pulled into the driveway of the Phelps residence, and everything was over as soon as it began. Travis grabbed for his robe and diploma that'd been thrown haphazardly in the back seat with Sal's in an effort to escape the heat, and he slid out of the seat, feet landing steadily on the concrete. 

"Uh-- Thanks. Again. For the ride."

"Travis, you know, if you ever need some time, we're always around. Everyone had fun talking to you when you weren't talking about how God doesn't love us."

How could God not love Sal? 

He was perfect.

Travis remembered saying that a thousand times, building it into his brain that God hated Sal and everyone around him, to wipe away the feelings in his gut and throat.

"I--" Travis jumped, hearing a creak behind him, seeing the shadow of his father peeking out from the door. Already Travis could feel the daggers on his back.

"You should go." Sal responded quickly, acutely aware of the danger.

"I'd like to see you again. If you're okay with it, I mean-- maybe we could hang out again, sometime." Travis was blurting the words in a hushed voice, the edge of his normally aggressive tone coming in. 

He could see Sal's eyes crinkle just slightly as he smiled under his mask.

"We'll talk soon. Go get out of the heat."


	7. Avalanche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Child abuse takes place in chapter and previous abuse is mentioned

Travis had gotten a stern 'talking to' when he got home. He'd expected it the second his father had approached the door, but this time was special for a variety of reasons.

"You're an adult, Travis! You can't just wander around getting into cars with any blue-haired freak who bats his eyes at you!"

"He's not a freak!" Travis had always been argumentative, it was something that his father despised and had tried more than once to beat out of him. Sal especially was a special topic for him. "He's just a guy! I'm allowed to have friends once in a while!"

"Like Hell! I saw that dumb look on your face, kid! If you keep this up, where do you think you're going to end up!?"

"I don't know! What does it matter?!"

"Because you're going into the ministry!" Kenneth's voice was so certain. This wasn't an assumption or even a demand, it was fact, and Travis knew it.

But it wasn't going to stop him from fighting tooth and nail as he was slowly getting a taste of what freedom and happiness could be like. In his mind, Travis had decided to try to fight for his Angel. For Sal.

"I'm not taking over that stupid church!" Travis hissed it out and felt immediately relief. It was the most honest he'd been with himself in years, to finally say out loud that following in his father's footsteps hadn't ever been in his plans. Once it was out, it was like a cap off a bottle.

"I'm not going to the church! I'm not carrying on your legacy! I'm not even getting married! I'll burn in hell with the other faggots!"

As the words poured out his mouth and Travis realized just how much he'd said he was hit with an overwhelming sense of fear... and then a fist hard enough to knock him to the ground. 

"Whatever you are, don't you dare let it bring us down with you. You have an important role, kid. Don't forget that."

The calm tone of his voice was scarier than any amount of yelling Kenneth had done over the years. Travis cringed as he wiped his mouth, saliva riddled with the taste of iron, but eyes as determined as ever.

"Fine."

Fists balled tightly, Travis pulled himself up from the ground. He stared Kenneth down for a long moment before turning back to go to his room, defeated for the time being. Kenneth hadn't broken his gaze once, as intense and strong-standing as ever. Tall statue and broad shoulders, a pit bull of a man defending his house from it's own inhabitants. 

What Travis didn't know was that this was just another pebble down an avalanche that'd been started before he was born, and one that he had no power of stopping.

All he could do was pray. 

Even as Travis questioned why he'd been put here, why he couldn't just be happy, why his mouth was full of blood and his jaw swollen, he gently closed the door behind him, turned off the lights, kneeled by his bed and prayed.


	8. Cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a few days! We got there eventually right?

Graduation had barely been a month ago, and already Travis was so bombarded with church errands he could barely breathe.

He'd always had been roped into the Sunday and Wednesday services, of course. That was to be expected. Since he'd graduated without so much as a single application to community college, though, Kenneth seemed to be finding any excuse to get him inside the chapel- reorganizing rooms, sweeping floors, organizing flyers, putting out candles, anything that could be done with two hands and one functioning eye was now Travis's job.

It made Travis notice Travis just how many people came in and out of the church even when there weren't services. The police chief and various officers, school faculty, journalists, doctors...

It was strange, and frankly, Travis needed a break. One whole day to himself, without having to wonder why people were leaving so late, or where in the church they'd even been since he hadn't heard anything in the main chapel. 

It'd taken a lot of working late, a lot of biting his tongue, and a lot of patience, but finally Travis had managed to convince Kenneth he could have one whole day of no church duties, no responsibilities, no chores. Just a whole day to himself, which he'd carefully lined up with the day Sal had invited him out to go hiking. 

Kenneth had agreed to let him leave on the condition that Travis be up the next day at 6 am, ready, at the church.

Travis had been so excited about his day off that he hadn't even considered why he needed to be there so early even though the church didn't open until 9 am, and the sermon wasn't until 10. 

As soon as his alarm clock rang, Travis leapt, rushing to the bathroom to try to make himself look presentable. 

His hair had been growing longer throughout his last few years of high school, now falling uncomfortably below his ears. He combed it up unceremoniously, capturing the top half of it in a hair tie. It was a little bit neater, at least.

Travis couldn't help but focus on his eye. It just looked...bad. Veins and irritation around the edges that even the best ice pack hadn't been able to tame despite his best efforts. He'd even tried concealer, but the few kinds he could sneak into his grocery shopping were no match. 

He wanted to look good to see Sal. Sure, the others were coming along too, but the only thing that mattered to him was Sal Fisher. 

Combing through his closet, Travis realized he didn't really own any clothes appropriate for the occasion. There were collared shirts and dress pants in droves, but nothing with any kind of 'sporty' feel. He settled on a pair of shorts and made due with a short sleeved shirt in the same pink tone he'd gravitated towards since childhood. 

As soon as the clock ticked over to 11, Travis was outside in front, twiddling his thumbs as he waited. It seemed like a lucky day; His dad seemed to be nowhere around the house, which gave him free range to be as excited as he wanted. 

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest as he spotted the blue mop of hair in the driver's seat. 

Though Travis had expected Larry in the front seat, but instead was instead sardined into the back seat alongside Neil and Maple, and Sal instead gestured Travis into the front.

"Are you sure this is alright?" Travis couldn't help but be nervous about the seating arrangement, looking around for support as Sal turned down the volume dial, lowering the metal music that had rocked through the speakers prior.

"Didn't think you'd be comfortable squished back here!" Larry answered before Sal could, a big, dumb grin across his face. 

"I was in charge of getting most everyone who wasn't already at Addison Apartments so that Chug could sleep in." Sal explained off-hand as Travis nodded in thanks and slid into his seat, seat belt quickly clicked into place.

He still felt a bit out of place, but it faded some as they got on the road.

Larry had wedged himself between the middle console briefly to turn the music up to a level Travis had never heard. Initially he jolted, but as everyone else relaxed and cheered along, it was only appropriate for him to join in.

"Do you know how to headbang, Trav?" Sal had to speak extra loudly to be heard over the music, especially with his mask muffling the sound.

"Why would I?" Travis asked, the edge in his voice more pronounced with his equally-loud volume. 

"It's fun, dude, you gotta try!" Larry spoke up from the back, using a hand to push his own hair out of his face, away from his own ruckus. 

Maple, thankfully able to talk a lot lower from her space in the middle, added on. "It's really not bad. And easy. Just don't let your neck get sore."

Travis glanced back at Neil for some kind of support, but Neil just shrugged. Not very helpful. 

"You just gotta--" Larry demonstrated, throwing his head and hair along forward, and then back. "Like that! Or like how Sal does it--" Once again, Larry demonstrated, though the side to side motion was a lot more chaotic for Maple, who laughed as she ducked down. "It's a lot more fun standing!"

"You really want me to do that?" Travis' brow furrowed in confusion.

"It might be nice to let loose a little. No one else is going to know but us. You're safe here." Sal spoke up. "I'd join you, but you know, driving."

That little comment made Travis smile. A real, genuine smile. He'd never been able to imagine being as safe as he was right now, on the highway, next to Sal, with metal music reverberating through car speakers almost as old as he was. 

"C'mon, try it!" Larry egged on, pulling Travis' head down from the clouds.

Travis took a deep breath before tugging out the hairtie from his hair, giving in and throwing his head forward. The length came in handy for one thing, at least.

More cheers of support erupted from the backseat, especially from Larry and Sal, who were absolutely ecstatic to have lured another one down their path of metal music. 

After a moment Travis felt a touch on his shoulder, jumping just slightly in his seat when he realized that it was Sal's hand. He could feel his ears and face burning. 

"Are you doing alright?"

"Y-yeah." Travis's breath was catching in his throat, between having lost it trying to keep up with Larry and trying to process the fact that Sal was really here.

The light shining through the window illuminated Sal's side, shining through the unruly blue hair as he glanced over. Like a halo.

"I'm having fun, Sal. Thank you."

The rest of the ride went fairly smoothly, and they arrived only a few moments before Chug pulled up, dishing out Todd and Ash as well as a few knapsacks of snacks and drinks. They'd definitely tried their best to be prepared to face however big the state park outside Nockfell was. 

As they got started wandering around the dirt paths, Travis kept up as well as he could. He hadn't actually gotten to go to a park like this in his life, but he was certain that he could keep up. Years of running menial tasks around the church's ridiculous hallways had worked up his stamina a surprising amount, even managing to keep strong when Chug and Todd fell behind, taking their time.

The challenge Travis didn't expect was when they got to the edge of the park.

It was beautiful, trees and foliage covering the solid ground, but ahead it stopped all at once.

A cliff. It was a beautiful view out to trees and hills and small neighborhoods beyond, but for Travis it only held fear. He felt his childhood fears flooding back, and his new lack of depth perception wasn't exactly helping him.

Larry and Ash were the first ones to walk near the edge, and once their gentle steps had confirmed it wouldn't immediately collapse they waved the others over. Wanting to keep a brave face, Travis approached, but his eyes went wide as he took in the depth of the area before him. 

After a serene moment of admiration, Larry grabbed Ash's shoulders, pretending to push her forward, which earned a cheerful squeal from her, a paniced wail from Chug, and laughter from most everyone else.

Except for Travis. His body jerked back, repulsed at the sheer idea of being pushed down, of the masses of rocks and trees waiting at the bottom, the pain that one wrong step could bring.

Sal had been behind Larry, standing just enough back to make sure he was comfortable, but the sudden movement caught his attention. Something was off and Sal could see now just how white Travis' fists were from clenching tightly while he fought to keep composure.

Before Sal could even try to help, Travis broke away, his heart pounding in his ears as he returned to the nearby seating area-- a small bench with a small wooden building built around it. Somewhere he could hide away and try to save face.

He didn't even hear Sal telling the others that he was going to go take a break. The ringing in his ears was taking over everything.

And suddenly Sal was in front of him. And then beside him. There was a warm hand on his shoulder, and Travis could feel those blue eyes on him. 

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Travis blurted it out more on impulse than anything, tongue sharp. As soon as he realized his tone, he took a deep breath. "...Sorry, I'm alright."

Sal's hand slid from Travis' shoulder to his back, rubbing along Travis' shoulder blades in an attempt to help comfort him.

"I know it's stupid but I hate big drops like that."

"I'm sorry, Travis. I should've warned you before we got closer. It's normal to be scared of things like that."

Was Sal apologizing for him being scared? Travis clenched his jaw.

"I'm an adult. I shouldn't be scared shitless of a cliff."

"It doesn't matter. You being comfortable matters more. The novelty will wear off in a bit and we can head back."

How did Sal always know what to say?

"How did you get so good? Every time I talk to you... Even when I was calling you a fag, you always saw something worthwhile about me."

"That's because you are worthwhile." Sal's mouth curled into a smile under his mask, feeling like he was finally getting past the facade Travis had worn for years. Travis was actually letting the stone walls around him down.

"I can't imagine what you're going through, Trav, but I want to help. If you need a break or help or something... I'm here for you."

Travis looks at Sal and all he sees is an angel. Wings upon wings, rings within themselves, uncountable eyes, and beauty.

"I can never repay you for that."

"You don't have to." Sal pauses for a moment, glancing over his shoulder. Todd was rambling off facts about the cliff, while Larry threw rocks over the edge, and eveyone was perfectly distracted. "Travis, close your eyes."

"Why?" Travis' brow furrowed, confusion distracting him once more from the images in his mind.

"Just do it. Hurry."

Travis composes himself and does as told, with no clue what to expect.

The sound of a single buckle being undone, and then the feeling of a hand on his knee, and then warm, scarred lips against his. 

A hundred emotions flowed through Travis' brain at once. Confusion. Unworthiness. Sadness. Anger. 

Need. 

He barely had time to press himself forward before everything was over, and he heard the buckling as Sal fixed his mask, and he was given permission to open his eyes once more.

"You..." Travis stammered it out, jaw agape in awe.

"We don't have to talk about it yet. If you're not comfortable, I mean. I'm still going to be here until you are."

The dumb grin that comes across Travis' face is embarrassing, he thinks. The few seconds he was being kissed by Sal were better than anything he'd ever prayed for.

"Maybe not yet, but... I'm working on it. For you."

"Do it for yourself too. I'm just here to help where I can."

"You're an angel, Sal."


	9. Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys! There was a hurricane over here that threw things out for a bit, and then I just got busy!

Travis had never felt like more of an idiot than when that purple and black robe was forced into his clammy hands. He'd never felt anything as utterly humiliating as being able to just barely see his father's cold eyes staring out at him under that ugly dog mask that'd hung on the wall for years.

It occurred to him that the dog mask must not have been just decor.

It occurred to him that all this time, the cult Sal had been looking for had been hiding right under his nose.

Travis even realized that if he'd looked a little bit harder or given a second thought to anything going on around him, he could've solved the puzzle ages ago and maybe gotten out before he'd been forced so deep.

Before it got to standing in a church basement, surrounded by shrouded faces and pooling black fabric. Before the reading prophecies and chanting. Before Travis was being told about his duties and responsibilities. The stone walls felt like they were closing in on him with every second that passed. Every word out of Kenneth's mouth was like a dagger to his chest. 

The worst part was that nothing that Kenneth said was actually sticking. Once it'd clicked into place, Travis' train of thought had been reduced to once single sentence.

'I'll never get to see Sal again.'

Over and over, playing out like a broken record. 

Travis knew he couldn't see Sal. He knew his workload was about to double, and it'd already been a lot to handle. Most importantly, he couldn't look Sal in the eye and talk to him as though he wasn't directly part of the cult Sal was fighting against. 

Just as quickly as any spark of romance or even just happiness had developed, Kenneth had stomped it out.

Kenneth couldn't help but be surprised by Travis' silence. That normally sharp tongue was still for once, not even an eye roll or sigh coming from his son's mouth. He was foolish enough to think perhaps he'd finally gotten through to Travis now that he could see the reality behind the Phelps ministry.

After the initiation, the church service went on as normal. Travis stood in the back, helping pass around the offertory dish and making sure everyone had their hymn books when it came time. As a treat from his very gracious father, Travis was allowed the time between morning and afternoon services off, to do with as he pleased.

Travis took that time to go home and cry,

Travis kept his composure as he locked the door and clipped the curtains closed, taking every precaution to secure himself despite the house being empty. As soon as he was sure the room was safe, his body gave in and Travis collapsed onto his bed, immediately overwhelmed with emotions he'd been harboring for years. 

With his head buried in his pillow, Travis wailed. Tears and spit wet the pillowcase, knuckles white from his tight grip around the fabric. His lungs heaved and labored with each desperate sob, begging for anything, anything at all, at all to be different. 

Travis hadn't even realized he was pleading.

"Why!?"

He was met only with his own voice.

"Please, God, why me!?"


	10. No Choice

It had happened so quickly that Travis never could've predicted it.

They had meetings for the Devourers of God more often than church services. At least four times a week, sometimes more depending on what they were doing. Travis was involved, but not involved enough to have any leadership, so when Kenneth was out other higher ups took over, spouting the same rhetoric like clockwork. At each meeting, they talked big about their progress and how strong they were getting. Travis knew it wasn't a lie just based on the stench of death that'd started penetrating even the normally fairly clean meeting rooms of the catacombs. 

They were even getting overflow of bones and flesh that'd normally stayed within Addison Apartments, though Travis hadn't been allowed over there for obvious reasons. Travis was expected to handle business at the church and maybe around town, if he was on his best behavior. Letting Travis wander around the apartment complex might garner too much attention from his classmates and raise too many questions about why he was there.

Travis didn't bother mentioning that it was a bit too late to quell his classmates' suspicions. Travis quietly hoped that if he let Sal keep fighting, maybe Sal would win. Maybe it'd be like one of those superhero comics where the hero saves the day and whisks the damsel off into the sunset. Travis tried not to think too much about how he was the damsel in that situation.

Then the fateful night came.

Travis had stayed late to clean up the church even if he hadn't been told to for once. It was nice to have the quiet halls to himself, crosses and paintings reflecting down onto him. It reminded him of what he believed, or at least tried to believe. 

Travis wasn't sure if he still believed in God. Maybe something was out there, but whoever it was wasn't cutting him any slack. What was the point? He swept dirt up from the ancient tiles and hummed a small tune. It filled the room up until the sound of a siren filtered in from outside. He brushed it off at first; there was any multitude of things that could've been happening this late at night to justify a police call. 

Then he heard a second siren. And a third. Brow furrowed, Travis made his way to one of the stained glass windows lining the walls. Several cop cars peeled past the church, and Travis suddenly realized what direction they were headed towards.

Addison Apartments. 

The logical part of his mind told Travis he should check because of how much D.O.G activity went on within the building, but it was entirely his heart that sent him running through the church, down the steps and out front-- down the street as fast as his legs could take him.

He needed to know if Sal was alright.

The sight before him was worse than Travis could've ever imagined.

There were officers everywhere, and Travis recognized them immediately as D.O.G members. Each one held a gun in their hands, following along a single target.

Sal's guitar had been ripped off and thrown onto the concrete. There were bloody footprints coming off of his shoes and some still dripping onto the ground from his clothes. Sal's beautiful prosthetic was splashed with red, his already normally messy hair even worse now that there were fluids drying into it.

Travis couldn't help but call out, attempting to push through the lines of officers and medics 

"Sal!" 

He screamed out in desperation.

As Sal's arms were forced behind him, handcuffs slapped as tight as they would lock, his one remaining eye scanned around. He saw Ash, opposite of Travis but equally as frantic. He saw the guns aimed toward his head. He saw the trees and dead grass surrounding the apartments, the broken sidewalk beneath him.

He stopped briefly to look at Travis, their eyes meeting.

Travis could just barely make out what Sal was saying.

"I had no choice." 

The certainty in Sal's voice shook Travis to his core. 

As Sal was ducked down into the patrol car, Travis was finally forced far enough back that he could no longer see. His mind was too clouded with with confusion and rage. What had happened in the apartments? Who's blood had Sal been covered in?

As soon as he pulled open the big, ornate church door, a rough hand dragged him inside, immediately against the stone. A fist slammed into the wall immediately beside his head.

"Dumbass!"

Kenneth's voice boomed into Travis' ears, ripping him out of a haze.

"What were you thinking, going out there!? You should have been at home!"

Travis had been holding his tongue for so many months that finally it just slipped.

"I was trying to be responsible and make sure we weren't compromised!"

"That's not your job! Your job is so stay out of everyone's way so you don't screw things up even more!"

"I didn't do anything!"

The defiance earned Travis a more proper hit to the jaw, enough to knock him to the side, just barely managing to stay on his feet. He hunched over his shoulder, body jolted in shock by the pain.

"Stay out of our way, kiddo. This is a temporary setback. I don't need you to do anything to set it back further."

The cold words weren't a surprise, but the underlying anger was new. He could tell there was something under Kenneth's skin.

"What happened?" Travis grumbled out.

"You'll see."

The conversation was over that quickly, Kenneth swinging the door back open and leaving without even a glance back. Travis slowly straightened himself up, hand still resting across the newly marred area of his jaw, trying to console the pain with the warmth of flesh. It wasn't working well, but it did help to add kindling to the fire that had been started in Travis' gut.

Travis knew that he would never know the exact details of what had happened inside Addison Apartments. He didn't even know what story his father's lackeys were going to swing, but he had faith in one thing: He was going to fight for Sal. Travis knew he had the one thing that Sal had never been able to get in his years of research. Travis had a way inside.


	11. The Trial

Ever since he'd first read the Bible as a child, Travis had been dictated a very specific image of Hell. Hell was overseen Satan, God's most beautiful corrupted angel. Hell was full of fire and stone. Hell was where people who deserved the worst got their divine punishment.

The Bible had been wrong.

Hell was sitting in the cold court room, watching Sal plead for his life. Sal was piecing together things as best as he could to not sound crazy. It wasn't working. Travis could see that no one was buying it. He could see the worry on Ash, Neil, Maple's faces. 

It was worse that Travis knew now that everything Sal was saying was true. 

Travis knew that Sal had done the only thing he could. He knew that when Sal had said he didn't have a choice, he meant it. Travis knew what would've happened if Sal hadn't done it. Sal had sacrificed everything to try and save Nockfell, and it was barely a small setback to Kenneth's plans.

Travis knew that unless he did something, his father was going to destroy everything Sal had fought for.

Travis couldn't even begin to think about what to do. What was he supposed to do!? He was inside of it, and he couldn't even find a way to save Sal!

It was cruel. Travis couldn't figure out what he had done to deserve this kind of punishment. His prayers pleading for some kind of help remained unanswered.

Every day Travis was one of the first people at the courthouse. He'd sneak out, run across town, and make it there before the sun was up, catching his breath before the others could see how winded he was. It was the same routine for each meeting. Sal was already sitting in front by the time they were allowed inside, hands bound in front of him and officers surrounding him. 

He didn't know how Sal could bear the things that were said on the stand.

The lies. The half-truths. The mistakes.

Maple was smart. Despite how close it was to her, despite her husband and her daughter being murdered, she refused to testify. She knew there wasn't anything she could say that would do anything but hurt Sal's changes at winning.

Ashley hadn't been as smart.

Her testimony broke Travis' heart, and he was sure it broke Sal's too. It was the only testimony that hadn't come from a cult replacement. This was Ashley, plain and simple, and her words were like bullets.

It was the one part the cult had no control over, and it was still the nail in Sal's coffin. 

Maple wept when the guilty verdict was announced. Neil was the first one to throw his arms around her, trying to give her any consolation. Ashley was just staring, numb at how badly her solution attempt had failed.

Travis hadn't even realized he'd moved until he was already to the front of the benches.

The officers were trying to get Sal out quickly, but there was a momentary pause as they fiddled with the old, stiff door knob.

Their good eyes met, and Travis was immediately pulled back into that deep blue shade.

Ever since Travis had been indoctrinated into the Devourers of God, it'd brought something forth in him: Questioning. He questioned the loyalty he'd had to God since childhood. He questioned if the teachings he'd grown up with were really what he should be following. It'd lead to an awakening, and several late nights in the library's theology scetion.

As Travis met Sal's eyes, all he could think was a quote from Farouq Jwaydeh.

'And if the devil was ever to see you, he'd kiss your eyes and repent.'

How could anyone think Sal deserved this?

Sal's expression was sad at first. And then angry, as he remembered how Travis had suddenly cut him off entirely after their hiking trip. Then, there was an more understanding than Travis had never seen in his life.

He could barely get it out of his throat, fighting back tears of his own, and even when he did, it was quiet.

"I love you."

Sal didn't even have a chance to respond before he was tugged roughly through the door.

Somehow the cold court room became even colder.


	12. Till Death Do Us Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a suicide attempt. Please take care of yourself and know that I love you.

What would it be like to die?

Travis' head was buzzing. He felt entirely numb as he desperately fought to keep a hold on reality.

The world felt like it was bending and curving around him. He wasn't sure what was stable ground and what was going to swallow him whole the second he stepped forward. He felt like one wrong breath could shatter the world apart. He felt like his body was made of ice.

Ashley had been trying to appeal the guilty verdict ever since it'd been announced, but even her best attempts couldn't get off the ground. Kenneth personally made sure that she never got to talk to anyone who hadn't had a nice talking to about the Phelps Ministry beforehand. He wasn't going to take any more risks by letting Sal live. Kenneth knew he had the power to take care of Sal once and for all. It was an understatement to say that the Devourers of God ran Nockfell. They ran everything. There were members across the globe, and the only thing that made Nockfell more special than New York or Matamoros was that weird pit under the church. 

Travis could look back at his life and pin point everything that'd been affected by the cult, all revolving around that weird pit.

The weird business trips with no warning suddenly made sense. The way Kenneth would sneak off during services made sense. The newspapers that were thrown out immediately made sense.

The dog mask on the wall made sense. 

Travis knew that as long as he was alive, he would never again know the peace of Sal's lips.

When he closed his eyes, he saw Sal. He felt his fingers running through that electric blue hair, of seeing those baby blue eyes and falling desperately, hopelessly in love all over again. 

Travis had always hated his eyes. They were a dark brown, the kind of brown he'd been told looked like shit throughout grade school, and when his eye started failing it made the shame even worse. Travis knew he'd gotten his mother's eyes even though he hadn't seen a photo of her in years. 

Travis wondered if that had been one of the things that made Kenneth so angry at him for all of those years. It couldn't have been the only thing, but would things have turned out better if he'd gotten his father's dull green instead?

Travis wondered if, in an ideal world, Sal would've cradled him close and told him that his eyes were beautiful. If Sal would've kissed his forehead and promised him that he was worthy of God's grace and mercy.

The cold air was like razor blades against his neck and cheeks.

Right now, Sal was either dead or about to be dead. Today was the much-anticipated execution date. People across the country were watching their televisions, seeing the sensationalized reports of what had happened just a block from the Phelps Ministry. The Addison Apartment Murders. The Sally Face Killings. 

This young man murdered his family and all of his friends in cold blood, and they never even found his brother's body! Look at this interview, see how absolutely crazy he is? Look at his cold, dead eyes! He could've been your neighbor, your classmate, or even your friend!

Travis hadn't been able to avoid hearing it on the news despite his best efforts. What troubled him more was that he was clearly visible in several of the trial photos, and yet, Kenneth hadn't mentioned it once. In fact, Kenneth barely talked to Travis at all anymore. He wasn't sure if this was a sign that Kenneth had given up on him, or if this just meant Kenneth was focusing on the people who actually wanted to be involved in taking down the world. 

Kenneth was starting to look worse every day. He'd been a handsome man, despite his intensity, but he was changing. His cheeks were starting to look more sunken in, and his eyes were getting more red every day. When Travis yelled at him, Kenneth didn't yell back anymore. Instead he would purse his lips and walk away. The fear and anticipation was worse than any amount of hitting of yelling.

Travis didn't have a future. It was being taken from him by an electric chair. His daydreams marrying Sal, moving to a suburb, and adopting a little boy were even less realistic given Sal's chronic condition of death. 

It was all hopeless. Travis knew it was hopeless.

Travis knew that there was nothing left for him.

And then all at once, it hits him that there might be something left for someone else.

Ashley had been fighting so hard these past few months, tooth and nail, doing everything she could to free Sal and take down the Devourers of God. She'd done what she thought was best at the trial, and her failure had only made her stronger.

Freeing Sal might not have worked, but maybe she could still do something else, especially she had a helping hand.

The rain was finally starting to die down. Travis' hands shook as he pulled himself back over the bridge's railing, tearing his eyes away from the dark water below. He had to take slow, careful steps to avoid slipping on the slick concrete below him. He wasn't sure how long he'd been on that ledge.

He had never been able give Sal his love in life, but maybe he could in death.


End file.
